Right Answer, Wrong Question
by Paceismyhero
Summary: Oneshot sequel/companion piece to Wrong Number, Right Time. Follows A/U Puck and Rachel through the beginnings of their relationship. Rated M for all the right reasons, and basically all fluff like the first one. Please read and review!


**Author's Note:** As the summary says, this is the sequel/companion piece to _Wrong Number, Right Time_. You don't necessarily have to read that one to enjoy this one, but you would more if you did. Plus, that one is less than 3,000 words, so it is a quick read! Which brings me to this one, which as you can see is MUCH longer (but still in the drabble-like format). Similarly, if the other one was "light M" then this one is "definitely M". Warned.

Finally, I'd like to take this time to dedicate this story to CarmillaD. S/he is leaving me tons of feedback on my other stories, but doing it all anonymously so I cannot give the proper thanks. So, thank you so much! To everyone else, thanks for the crazy encouragement and tons of support. You guys rock my socks!

* * *

><p>Rachel bit her lip self-consciously, inwardly counting the seconds of silence as they passed. Her eyes lifted from her menu as inconspicuously as possible, the brown orbs darting back down when she saw that Puck was looking at her. She could feel the heat rise on her cheeks, her embarrassment outweighing her anger when he softly chuckled in response. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous, but the fact that he didn't seem anxious in the least wasn't helping.<p>

"Ease up, B. I've seen ya naked."

Rachel's head snapped up, her blush deepening as she took in his comical expression. Her eyes were wide in shock despite how badly she wanted to glower at him. How could he have the audacity to say such a thing? Inwardly she scoffed, knowing that was a rhetorical question. He'd acted the same exact way every other time she'd spoken to him in the last month, so it should really be no surprise that his arrogance was still firmly in tact on their first date. It was basically her fault, too, because she was the one who'd basically served herself onto a platter a few days ago at his studio.

"It's been awhile since I've been on a date," she explained lamely.

Puck nodded his head and removed the napkin from his lap. He placed it on the table as he stood, motioning to the back of the restaurant as he said, "I'm gonna go take a leak."

Rachel watched him go, maybe partially curious to see if he'd suddenly turn in the direction of the exit and leave her there by herself. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous. Everything about their relationship up until right then had been completely natural; so much so, in fact, that it made absolutely no sense. He was a stranger in every sense of the word, and yet their connection was undeniable. But here, tonight, all she could focus on was how she was _supposed_ to act and things they were _supposed_ to talk about.

When her cell phone rung, Rachel looked behind her toward the restrooms and decided to answer the call when she didn't see Puck returning – answering a phone call certainly wasn't going to make this date any _worse_. Moving the tablecloth out of the way, she reached down into her bag and retrieved the phone. The screen read _Noah_ on the front and she furrowed her brows before looking behind her once more. This time she saw him, leaning against the sidewall in view of their table but still in the back of the restaurant.

Slowly, she answered. "Hello?"

"Sup, Berry?"

She looked at him with a confused expression even as she spoke into the receiver. "What are you doing?"

"Just felt like talkin'."

"Then why don't you come back to the table?"

"I don't want to talk to that chick." He grinned when her expression grew even more confused. "I wanna talk to the cool, hot broad who's been buggin' me for the past month."

She blushed in response, her eyes falling to the top of her chair as she softly whispered, "Maybe she's not here."

"She's there. I'm lookin' right at her."

Rachel's eyes lifted back up to his, and even through the distance his smoldering gaze set her on fire. She figured many people considered his arrogance to be off-putting (something people have certainly said about her own), but there was something about his confidence that made her feel confident, too. She already knew they got along well enough, and she wasn't sure why she was trying to force something that had always been so effortless.

She removed the phone from her ear and pressed the end button. She tossed the device into her purse and swiftly grabbed the handles of her bag. Riffling inside for some cash, she threw it on the table and then sauntered toward the back of the restaurant. Puck's posture straightened as much as it could as she approached him, her catlike grin growing even wider when she watched his lazy smirk grow, too. Mirroring his stance, she stepped just a fraction of an inch closer, enough that their pelvises were touching, and tilted her head up a little so her eyes focused on his.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Puck snorted out a laugh, nodding his head while slinging his arm over her shoulders to lead them out. "Fuck yea."

* * *

><p>Puck sat uncomfortably in the plush, velvet theater seat. He was wedged between his little sister and his mother, both of whom were transfixed by the show in front of them. Not enough, however, that they didn't jab him in the ribs every time he sighed in boredom or even looked back toward the exit sign. Legit, he was just going to take a leak. He wasn't enough of a dick to run out on his own family, even if his girlfriend wasn't one of the people on stage.<p>

"She's absolutely breathtaking, Noah," his mother whispered (as best she could).

"I know," he responded gruffly. It wasn't that he didn't agree - have you _seen_ Rachel? - but it was about the hundredth time his mom had said something to that effect since the show started and his ears were starting to bleed. Next his little sister, though twenty years old and far past the stage in her life when everything she said was intended just to bug him, would make a snide remark about how lucky he was just to _know_ someone like Rachel.

"Yea, what are you going to ask the genie for next?"

He smirked half because he saw it coming and half because she was actually pretty funny, a trait he still liked to think she got from him. And even though it had been their mother who started it, she immediately shushed them both before moving her attention back to the stage. His eyes traveled up to the same space, honing in on his girl as she made her entrance from the left. He'd heard her sing and all – _made_ her sing, if you knew what he meant – but tonight was the first time he'd seen her on stage. The theater wasn't really his scene, which people didn't seem to understand because apparently being in the music industry meant he should appreciate _all_ forms of music; and he _did_ appreciate the music, he just didn't appreciate wearing a tie and sitting on his ass for three-plus hours. Still, watching Rachel perform was definitely something he could get used to.

She had this insane ability to steal every scene, which was sort of a given since she was the lead but still felt like all her doing. Plus, her voice on stage was completely different than her voice in the studio, just as her voice in casual conversation wasn't the same as her voice during their less than casual moments. All of them were sort of hypnotizing in their own way, and kind of made it hard to pick a favorite even though he knew which one he was _supposed_ to like the most. That was probably how she managed to keep his attention; it wasn't just about the sex with her.

"Bravo!" His mother announced as the room thundered in applause. She was the first out of her seat, clapping wildly along with everyone else. He stood, too (he would have been the only one sitting if not), but couldn't help the bubble of laughter that spilled out when his eyes met Rachel's even as she bowed along with the male lead. They'd all had dinner beforehand, so the first-time meet and greet was long over, but he knew better than to assume his mother was done with her interrogation. He wished there was something they could do afterward even though it was nearly midnight; he really didn't want to spend the night listening to his mom and sister talk about Rachel the whole time – especially when _he_ wouldn't see Rachel until his family left at the end of the weekend.

"I'm gonna go say goodbye." He motioned toward the side of the theater, ignoring the swooning from both women. "Go wait in the lobby."

Puck slipped past the others left in their row, heading in the opposite direction as everyone else. Rachel had showed him earlier how to get backstage, as apparently his suggestion to just climb on stage and go _back_ wasn't the correct answer. Unless of course he wanted to be tasered, which would be kind of a cool story if it was a huge, seven-foot guy doing it and not some skinny gay dude. As she described, her dressing room was the one with _three_ gold stars on the front, and also had her name on it but she hadn't mentioned that. He knocked twice, unsurprised that the door flew open but definitely not expecting Rachel to be half-naked when it did.

"Did you like it?" She asked anxiously, pulling him inside and shutting the door with her back just so she could keep her piercing gaze on him.

"Uh," Puck began, trying to wrap his head around her question and not the smooth olive skin swelling out of her bra. "You were awesome."

She beamed. "Did your mother enjoy it?"

"Look, babe, I really don't wanna talk about Ma right now." It wasn't too aggressive, but he pressed his fingers into the taunt skin of her stomach, pushing her against the door; basically, she got the hint. "Ballpark, I got five minutes before she comes rippin' through this place looking for one or both of us." He lowered his voice, his nose teasing the shell of her ear. "Ya wanna spend that time with me buried deep inside you or ya wanna …"

Rachel didn't let him finish, cupping his cheeks with her tiny hands and pulling his lips to hers. Once fastened where she wanted him, she began to walk forward, forcing him back until he knocked against the arm of the couch in her dressing room. The two of them tumbled down to the cushions together, his grip on her secure even during the less-than-graceful descent, and she made quick work of his zipper and then her underwear. The second he felt her tight walls surround him, her content sigh wrapping around his strangled groan, he really only had one thought outside of plowing her into oblivion.

"Right answer."

* * *

><p>Rachel scoffed, pushing the cab door shut even though Puck was still in the backseat. She made her way toward the apartment entrance, ignoring Puck's confused and almost desperate questioning as he followed behind her. Halfway up the stairs, with him still sprouting off questions that were inappropriate for public if they could even be considered acceptable out loud, she stopped. Jutting a finger out toward him, she ignored his bemused expression and did her best to remain firm.<p>

"This night is important to me, Noah. These people are my closest friends, and I don't have many of those." She didn't sounded nearly as sad as she used to when she said something like that, but it was more because she had learned that she preferred having a small, tight-knit group of friends to handfuls of so-so friends. "I want you to meet them, not necessarily _hang out_ with them."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I ain't stupid. I'll be on my best behavior and whatever. I just wanna know how we went from making out in the back of the cab to this … argument or whatever."

"Because you constantly try to distract me with sex and I wouldn't allow it this time," she answered sharply, continuing her trek up the stairs. Finn's apartment was on the fifth floor, which made his one of the view places in New York she could use the stairs instead of the elevator. "_Especially_ in the back of a cab."

"Why does that matter?"

She scoffed. "Is it not obvious?" Puck shrugged and she sighed in response. "Well, the _less obvious_ reason is that we need to learn to control our desires."

"That don't sound like fun."

"I'm serious, Noah." Rachel stopped outside Finn and Quinn's apartment door, looking at her boyfriend. "The number of times we've had sex on a bed is far outweighed by the times not. What does that mean?"

"Means we're two hot Jews." He leered, invading her personal space after she knocked on the door, moving her so her back rested against the doorframe. "And when I see you, I can't help but want ya."

Rachel whined into his kiss, trying not to be affected by his words but failing miserably. This was precisely the feeling she had been hoping she'd feel with someone eventually, and now that she experienced it she couldn't get enough. His desire just strengthened hers and seemed to make all logic and reason go right out the door. It didn't matter when or where or even why; she just wanted him _all the time_. She would think it was unhealthy if it wasn't so terribly, terribly _good_.

"Finn, do you have a hose I could borrow?"

Rachel pulled back from Puck just a little, her head turning to see Kurt. He was smiling at her and Blaine stepped up behind him with an equally amused expression. Puck cleared his throat and then straightened his posture. She watched in fascination as he switched from lustful to casual in seconds, amazed at how easily he'd done it.

"Dude, you just set everyone up for like a million gay jokes."

"Noah!" Rachel chastised loudly, ignoring Blaine's and even Finn's laughter (who had to be laughing pretty hard because Kurt had yelled his original question across the room). "What happened to being on your best behavior?"

"Ya want them to get to know me or not?" They walked inside the apartment, looking at only each other as they spoke.

"I'm having second thoughts," she joked lightly, putting the first impression behind her and using one hand to point to Kurt while the other rested absently on Puck's forearm. She used her best hostess skills and introduced Puck to Kurt, Blaine, Finn, and Quinn, making sure to add tidbits about each person so they'd have something to initially speak about. For instance, while Finn was setting up coolers of beer for when the other guests started to arrive for his birthday party, she explained that both men loved hockey. It was the last thing she had said to Puck since they arrived, and that was nearly two hours ago.

"No wonder you've been keeping him all to yourself," Kurt said as he approached her, nearly blocking her view of the man in question by standing directly in front of her. "Who needs friends when you got that at home, right?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Please, not another guilt trip."

"I was being completely serious." Kurt smiled, bumping his hip against hers as he moved to stand next to her so they could both eye Puck. "I like him. _We all_ do."

"Good." Rachel blushed, biting her lip to mask her smile as she saw Puck's eyes find hers from over Blaine's shoulder. He winked and that was pretty much it. Logic, gone. Reason, bye. "I do, too."

Keeping her eyes trained on his for as long as she could, Rachel coyly walked into the empty guest bedroom and didn't have to wait more than a few seconds for Puck to join her. Their lips attached almost as quickly, their hands hastily exploring each other's bodies. Clothes were removed in a flash and she didn't even remember lying down between all the kissing and touching. It was hard to focus on her surroundings when the only thing that mattered was right in front of her.

"Wait," she whispered breathlessly, her chest heaving as her eyes searched his. "We can't have sex here," she gulped, "can we?"

"Yes, we can." Puck smirked, pushing her deeper into the mattress for emphasis. "It's a bed."

Rachel giggled, rolling her eyes at herself because that was all the reason she needed before re-attaching her lips to his.

* * *

><p>Puck flung the door open, his other arm immediately wrapping around her lithe waist and pulling her inside and against him. The weight of their bodies pushed the door closed, his lips hot and fast on hers. She whined into the attack, her purse and gym bag falling to the ground before her arms circled around his neck. The hand that wasn't needed for the door anymore moved down her torso, trailing over the curve of her ass before curling against the top of her thigh. He hoisted her up, using his lower body to keep from sliding down the door while his lips moved from her mouth to her neck.<p>

"Is this how you greet all your visitors?"

"Just the hot ones."

She giggled, trying to pull his head away from her body. "I need to shower."

"I can work with that," he leered, securing her in his arms again before turning abruptly. She squealed in response, gripping him tighter on the off chance that he'd drop her. She weighed all of six pounds, so he really wasn't sure what she was freaking out about, but he wasn't going to say anything considering he could legit feel the heat from her core seeping into his skin even through her yoga pants and his shirt. He hadn't seen her all week and he should get a fucking metal for being so accommodating to her damn work schedule.

"Noah!" The amused lilt in her voice pulled him from the memory of all the dirty things he considered doing to her during the week when the phone just hadn't been enough. "Your phone is ringing."

He scoffed. "I stopped answerin' the phone once you showed up at the studio."

The words weren't out of his mouth more than a few seconds before his answering machine kicked on and the voice of some unknown girl filtered through the living room and into his bathroom. Reluctantly, Puck removed his lips from Rachel's skin, his brows furrowing in confusion as the high-pitched voice of _Kimberly_, whoever the fuck that was, droned on and on about seeing him at the bar last night and getting his number from his blonde (soon-to-be-dead) friend. His eyes ticked back to Rachel's, who didn't look pissed but certainly wasn't feeling the whole two people, one shower vibe he had going on before.

"I don't even know who that was," he defended vehemently, which might have seemed desperate but … _it had been a week!_

"I know." Her voice was soft, far away, which made no sense because even though he'd placed her feet back on the ground in preparation of turning on the shower she was still right next to him.

"But … you're like … sad or somethin'." He wasn't normally so emotionally retarded – okay, he kind of was – but he was working off very little blood flow to his brain at the moment.

"Just putting things in perspective."

He groaned at the girl answer. "The fuck does that mean?"

"It wasn't an insult, Noah. I just … must remind myself that while this has been the makings of a one-of-a-kind, whirlwind romance that … it isn't necessarily the same for you."

Legit, he was going to kill Sam. "S'the same for me, B." He pushed some hair that had fallen out of her ponytail (maybe he pulled it, he couldn't remember) back behind her ear. "I haven't had a girlfriend since fuckin' high school, so this is as _one-of-a-kind_ as it gets."

"Do your friends know this?"

"Yea." He rolled his eyes, turning around to start the shower. "We talked all about it while getting' our nails done and eatin' popcorn together." She didn't look amused when he turned back to face her, and he sighed heavily. "They know 'bout ya, but …"

"But they assume I'm just one of many." He shrugged and her eyes dropped low, like her voice. "Am I?"

"I ain't fuckin' around, if that's what you're askin'." He hadn't meant to answer so harshly, especially since she was being all vulnerable and shit, but he never expected her to ask him that question. Even in less than two months of knowing each other, he thought she knew him better than that. "Sam's just stupid. You'll meet him; you'll understand."

Her eyes lifted hopefully. "I'll meet him?"

"Yeah." Puck rolled his eyes. Women. "He got some free tickets for this outdoor concert tomorrow. You already know Santana, but Sam and Mike and his wife, Tina, will be there. So, you wanna go?"

She nodded eagerly. "Absolutely!"

"One condition."

"Anything," she answered immediately, and he let slip a devilish grin before grabbing the hem of her shirt.

"Exactly."

* * *

><p>Rachel looked at herself in her full-length mirror, turning around slowly to make sure her dress was as perfect as it could be. She heard the knock on the front door and Finn's heavy steps from the living room toward the entrance. The two men exchanged pleasantries, though Puck's voice sounded strained. She worriedly wondered if he had a bad day at work or if he maybe didn't want to go to dinner anymore, scrambling out of the bedroom and through the hallway.<p>

"Hey," she greeted, gauging his expression. "Ready to go?"

"Actually," he looked at Finn briefly, then back to her, "can we talk … outside?"

Rachel swallowed hard, her head nodding a little even as she felt the tears build behind her eyes. It was only a twenty- or thirty-foot walk, but it felt like a mile as her mind raced. What could have gone wrong? Did she do something? It had been a tough month as far as finding time to see one another because of his work schedule and hers, but she had done her absolute best to balance her professional and personal life.

"Are you … feeling okay?"

"I don't know," he answered flatly, his arms rising in frustration. "I come to pick up my fuckin' _girlfriend_ and her _ex-boyfriend_ answers the door." His face was expressionless, but also so tense that she knew he was angry. "I've been better."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Finn and Quinn broke up." She waved it off dismissively. "They do this all the time, so he's staying in my spare bedroom until everything is cleared up."

"For how long?" He asked, his voice hitching a little.

"I'm not sure. It was a week last time." She shrugged, not understanding the problem. "Anymore than that and I think we'd kill each other. He's a slob and _apparently _I'm a handful."

"Yea, and I'm sure he wants to use _both_ fuckin' hands."

Rachel blinked in surprise, realization dawning on her. "Are you … jealous?" He scoffed in response, but his eyes and defensive stance were evidence to the contrary. Men. "It's unnecessary, Noah." She paused for a beat. "And slightly unfair considering I believe we recently had this argument and _you_ downplayed the entire situation."

"S'different. You loved that guy."

"Finn has been my friend a lot longer than he's been my boyfriend," she reasoned. "I don't love him that way anymore. I lo …"

Rachel's eyes widened, matching Puck's. They stood as still as stone for what felt like an hour but was actually just a minute, just staring at each other. Rachel was wondering how she could take back what she'd almost said, and then she'd started to worry that she didn't want to take it back. Puck, on the other hand, looked white as a ghost and was entirely unreadable.

"What I meant to say, and perhaps didn't make clear, was my relationship with Finn is in the past with absolutely no effect on my present or even the future."

"Nah." Puck broke his stoic expression, grinning a little too wide. "That's not what you were going to say." He stepped closer, Rachel stepping back in response only to find herself trapped between his body and her front door. "Say what ya were gonna say."

She shook her head, embarrassed even more by his taunting. This felt entirely too much like high school, when she was the glee freak and the popular kids would be nice to her just to find new ways to torment her. Things got better after she dated Finn and learned to tone down her craziness, but now Finn was the problem. Later, when she'd recall this horrific moment, she'd blame him.

"I might say it back."

She gasped lightly, staring deep into his eyes. She was mesmerized by the deep hazel color, so clear and free of ridicule that she couldn't help the way the words just fell off her lips, "I love you."

Puck grinned, pushing back from her frame back to an upright position. "Cool."

"Noah!" Rachel turned bright red, both from embarrassment and anger, turning on her heels and stomping across the hardwood floors of her apartment as she followed Puck back to her bedroom. He was in her closet when she finally caught up to him, and she stood in the doorframe in some attempt to trap him inside. She wasn't sure what to say in this situation, though, as everything that came to mind sounded very much like a child having a temper tantrum about not getting her way. "What are you doing?"

"I'm packin' you a bag." He stuffed basically her entire lingerie drawer in a large duffel bag she used for dance rehearsals, and then moved on to actual appropriate clothing. "Past or not, I ain't lettin' the girl I love play house with her ex. You'll stay with me."

Rachel bit her lip, knowing jumping up and down would be entirely inappropriate but actually having to force her feet to stay on the ground. Instead, she nodded coyly and walked to her bathroom to get her toothbrush and a few other hygienic essentials before going back into the bedroom and packing them in one of the side pockets. Puck zipped up the duffel and threw it over his shoulder, winking at her in that ridiculously sexy way he did before wrapping his other arm around her waist as they walked out of the bedroom together.

Rachel smiled widely at Finn for no other reason than she couldn't stop smiling, tossing a light explanation over her shoulder before they left, "Don't wait up!"

* * *

><p>Puck sagged his head, his eyes trained on the juncture where their bodies were connected. Paired with the breathy moans and high-pitched gasps dancing across his ear, he had to close his eyes tightly to regain his composure. He felt her nails dig into his sides and groaned, his lips moving to the slick heated skin of her neck. He let his teeth graze over the sensitive skin, his tongue lathing over her pulse point before taking the same torturous trail to the other side of her neck.<p>

"You close, baby?" She whimpered in response and he drove into her harder. "How close?"

"So … so ... so ..."

Each time she tried to answer her voice went up an octave, until he wasn't even able to hear the words anymore. She wasn't even really breathing, her eyes rolled back into her head, and the only reason he knew she hadn't died was because her tongue moved along with his when he plunged it deep inside her mouth. Well, that and she had pulled him impossibly close and threw off his rhythm enough that she was pivoting her hips against his frantically to regain the friction.

"F-fuck," he stuttered, feeling her walls clench him like a vice grip. She shuttered underneath him even while he gave three more powerful thrusts, finally releasing the breath she'd been holding in a piercing cry that legit would have made him hard all over again if he had the energy. The way she lightly traced her index finger over his torso once he collapsed down next to her did the same thing. Shit, who was he kidding? _Everything_ she did turned him on.

"You did this on purpose. I know it."

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout?"

"Made me all sweaty and tired." She sighed dreamily, nestling into him a little. "Well it won't work, mister."

He chuckled at that. Busted. "It worked last night."

"Yes, but I can't get away with wearing a skirt paired with one of your shirts to work again. It's highly suspicious, and frankly I don't want to deal with the line of questions that will no doubt come from Kurt at our lunch tomorrow."

"Tell the fashion police to mind his own business." Puck stretched, feeling tired but wired at the same time. Sex with Rachel was insane like that. Usually, after he did the deed with a chick that was the end of it. Whatever attraction had forced him into the situation to begin with wore off and he couldn't get away fast enough. But with Rachel, it was like he was just getting his fill before he could refuel later. There was no such thing as enough sex with Rachel, and it wasn't just because she was crazy flexible and sexy and …

Fuck. He was hard again.

"Noah," she reprimanded softly, his erection pressed into her back. He could hear the smile in her voice, and it just made him hold her tighter. Because the even crazier thing about Rachel was that it wasn't just about the sex. As evident by how they first "met" and got to know each other, he liked talking to her. She was crazy, but in a completely entertaining kind of way. She always had something to say, and she did so with intelligence and confidence that his typical conquests failed to possess. She was ambitious and funny and kind and just a good person, and somehow just being with her made him better at being those things, too.

"Ya know ya wanna stay," he reasoned, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck behind her hair. "So just stay."

"To what end?" She asked on a giggle, his lips on the nape of her neck changing the lilt of the amusement to that of arousal.

"I dunno. Like, no end." He pulled back just a little as he felt her turn in his embrace, staring at him with wide eyes. "You're always over here or I'm always over at your place." He shrugged. "Why don'tcha just stay?"

"Are you …" She swallowed thickly, his eyes following the trail her tongue took over her bottom lip, "… asking me to move in?"

He didn't even blink, which in hindsight was sort of surprising. "Yea." He shrugged again. "Stay."

"I'm not a dog, you know?" She said even as her face lit up, her hands trailing down his chest to much more dangerous territory.

He groaned at the contact, ready to sacrifice at least thirty minutes of sleep just to prove a point. "I know," he began, catching her meandering hands and pinning them above her head. "But I bet I can make you come on demand."

* * *

><p>Rachel dropped her head in embarrassment, laughing lightly despite the joke being at her expense. She knew when she asked her fathers to meet Puck that there would be terrible stories of her childhood revealed to her boyfriend, but she hadn't expected them to start so soon. They'd barely sat down to eat and somehow they'd managed to not just tell Puck about how she used to ask people to get naked before she sung so she wouldn't be nervous (it was an innocent mistake; Hiram hadn't explained the <em>imagining<em> people in their underwear that well) but that had moved onto much less appropriate jokes about her behavior now. Honestly, she wasn't sure she'd be able to look her fathers in the eyes after this evening.

"Muffin, do you remember …"

"What do you think you're going to order, Daddy?" She interrupted, earning laughter all around. She tilted her head to her left, regarding Puck and his seemingly soothing stroking of her back warily; after all, he'd been the instigator into much of the embarrassment thus far. "Noah can recommend something if you're having trouble choosing. He's a carnivore much like you."

Hiram and Leroy shared a look that Rachel had seen many times throughout her life, and she suddenly felt her chest constrict at the thought of her life finally being on track to being able to share something similar. She and Noah were already sharing a living space and the intimacy that came along with that new arrangement. They had inside jokes and secrets shared between just them two. She could tell what mood he was in without even a word passing between them, and he was starting to develop his own structure around her morning and evening routines.

"So, honey, how's everything going with the show?"

"It's absolutely wonderful, Father," Rachel beamed, setting her menu down as she spoke enthusiastically. "And Noah and his studio has been helping me with my album. Samantha wants it on shelves for Black Friday, which means we have a few more months to make sure each track is perfect." She sighed happily. "Everything is coming together splendidly!"

"Sounds like you both are very busy," Leroy mentioned just as the waiter approached. Everyone gave their order before he continued with line of thought. "It's nice to see you are making time for one another, though."

"We definitely know what it is like to juggle chaotic schedules," Hiram added, shaking his head a bit. "I think we have both finally talked the other into retiring in the next year."

"Really?" Rachel asked excitedly, looking between her fathers eagerly. "What will you do?"

"We're not sure." Leroy laughed. "That's probably why we've put it off for this long."

"I'd love to travel. Rome, Paris, Greece …" Hiram sighed dreamily. "And we'd also have more time to come up here and visit."

"You could move to New York!"

Puck laughed, shaking his head a little. "I am trying to convince Ma to move further away and you're begging your parents to move closer."

"Opposites attract," Hiram replied with a wink. "Which I always knew would be the case, but Rachel has always surrounded herself with like-people."

"Can we please not talk about me as if I'm not sitting at the same table?"

"Since she was young," Leroy picked up despite Rachel's request, " she has always know what she wanted and she went after it." He shrugged softly. "We were starting to worry you'd never settle down, dear."

Rachel swallowed nervously, her eyes moving to the corners to see if Puck was freaking out yet. He was already a little unwilling to do the whole "meet the parents" thing as it was. Now they were basically verbally walking her down the aisle and she half-expected to see a smoke silhouette of him in place of his actual body considering how fast she thought he'd run away. Instead, he moved his one hand to her bare thigh, and answered in a very Puck-like manner.

"I wouldn't exactly call her settled." Puck waggled his eyebrows, much to her mortification and her fathers' amusement.

"Would you call _yourself_ settled?" She asked, turning the tables on him.

His teasing smile faded quickly, his head turning to face her more squarely. She had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing out loud, just watching the split personalities tear Puck in two or three pieces. He wanted to continue the rousing, no doubt, and he certainly didn't want to admit that he was tied down out loud anymore than he already had to her (in the privacy of their room). But, he also didn't want to earn the stink eye from either of the Berry fathers, so he settled for a smirk, a pinch to her inner thigh, and a vague answer.

"Ain't really possible with you, babe."

* * *

><p>Puck banged his head against the glass case, earning Mike and Sam's attention, however brief. Sam had wanted to <em>stop in real quick<em> to check out engagement rings. That was an hour ago. An hour of looking at a million different rings that Puck swore were all the same, talking in way too much detail about the importance of cut, clarity, carat and … he dozed off before the last one. He legit was starving and they should already be at the bar digging into their burgers by now.

"You're like a child," Sam said before handing back another ring, continuing to look for the perfect one. "Mike and I should invest in one of those tot-along things for you."

"And matching purses to hold your balls, too," Puck muttered, sighing heavily. "Can we go?"

"You know Santana, dude," Sam tried to reason after pointing to another selection. "If I don't get the right ring, she's gonna murder me."

"Assuming she says yes," Mike pointed out.

"She'll say yes," Sam growled.

Puck groaned, feeling the vagina starting to take form. "Of course she'll say yes. She's the one who told you to buy the God damn ring. Stupid," he muttered. "You've finally accomplished your very own tale of taming the shrew. Is it time to eat _now_?"

"I know you are refusing to acclimate to Rachel's vegan diet, so what, pray tell, could have you so irritable?" Mike asked, his voice full of teasing. "Is the Puckasaurus perhaps upset that he's the last man standing?"

Sam chuckled, shaking his head even as he inspected another ring. "Puck could care less that we're settling down. You remember how he acted when you got engaged. After the bachelor party, the only thing that kept him standing up there with you was Tina's three single bridesmaids."

"One of whom is still waiting for you to call her, by the way," Mike grumbled.

"So I don't care about rings and weddings and baby clothes or bullshit like that," Puck said defensively. "Don't mean I don't think about the future."

"Well you better, because a girl like Rachel isn't going to stick around forever."

"No matter how good the sex is," Sam added with a wide grin.

Puck just rolled his eyes, ignoring the rest of the conversation about Sam finally finding the right ring and the details of getting it sized and all. He was too busy thinking about what his friends had said, and even what Rachel's fathers had said last month when they visited. He'd never considered himself the settling down type; even a girlfriend had been out of the question before Rachel. But if that could change, and she was the reason for the change, then why shouldn't he propose?

He certainly didn't want Rachel to move on just because she thought he wasn't serious, though to her credit he really didn't think she was that kind of girl. They had a connection between them that wasn't seen or even known to anyone else, and Puck knew Rachel wasn't always perceived for the person she actually was. People saw her as demanding, but she was really just driven. They assumed she would be the girl who required fine dining and romance, but she loved eating leftover Chinese food straight from the carton in bed. They saw their Rachel, but she was _his_ Rachel.

"Go for Puck," he answered his ringing phone with his usual greeting even though he saw her name and wondered if she was reading his thoughts.

"Hey," she responded lightly. "I just wanted to hear your voice before I went onstage. Are you having fun with the boys?"

"Not really," he said flatly. "We took a detour so you'll probably beat me home." Puck inhaled a deep breath, looking behind his shoulder to make sure Mike and Sam were occupied at the front desk. "Will ya wait for me?"

It was a loaded question, one he knew Rachel wouldn't understand and likely would think was meant to be taken sexual (which, OK, it was him and probably should), but she relieved his mind nonetheless by responding without so much as a lick of hesitation.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Rachel turned the corner, switching the phone to her left ear to her right. "Yes, Samantha. We are going to work <em>all<em> tomorrow."

"Don't get that tone with me, young lady. Remember the _years_ I put up with you being the slave driver before you start blaming me for the reason you'll have to pry yourself out of the nice, warm bed with your nice, warm boyfriend."

"Fair enough," she conceded. "But only because I'm walking from the theater to meet said boyfriend for lunch and don't wish to argue with you about being right."

"Another first."

"Goodbye, Samantha." Rachel rolled her eyes, ending the call just in time for it to ring again. She looked down and saw Noah's name. "Speak of the devil."

"I've been called worse." She laughed because she could hear his shrug in his response. She was going to see him in ten short minutes, but knowing him well enough to see him in his voice was comforting for the times they were apart. "Where are you?"

"I just left the theater. The Sunday matinee is always a little crazy." She shook her head at herself. "Which you'd know by now because I've been complaining about it for the past six months."

"Speaking of which, I wanna talk to you about somethin'. But, uh, it's not exactly cool to do over the phone."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat, her feet completely stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. She was cutting through the park to get to one of their usual spots, and her heart clenched at the thought of _their spot_ becoming something she avoided because they'd broken up. It hadn't been that long, but he'd become such an important part of her life so quickly that she wasn't even sure how she'd function without him.

"Is it … a good something or a … bad something?" She asked breathlessly.

"It …. Can …. Er … s …."

Rachel pulled the phone back, seeing the words _Call Lost_ flash across the screen. Her hands started to shake, inwardly cursing the infant technology for cutting off what could possibly be the most defining conversation of her and Noah's relationship. Now she had five more blocks to walk, all the while worrying if this would be a short lunch – their _last_ lunch. She hurried across the grass to make up some lost time, feeling her phone vibrate in her hand again. She pressed the button to open the text message, and stopped dead in her tracks again when she read the two short words staring back at her.

_Marry me?_

She released a shaky breath, her eyes lifting from the phone only to come face to face with Noah. He was walking from the other side of the park, a sly smile on his face but his hands stuffed nervously in his jean pockets. The fall foliage set the perfect background for a moment she knew she'd remember forever. And when he was close enough, she didn't hesitate in dropping all her stuff and throwing her arms around his neck. She held onto him tightly, feeling the tension release from his shoulders as well as the warmth of his breath as his lips moved across the skin of her neck.

They didn't say another word for at least five minutes, willing to stay locked in that embrace for all of eternity. Because, as it turned out, when the right question was asked the answer wasn't nearly as important as what happened next.


End file.
